


Rabbit Hole

by nanaa127



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: AU, Altered Timelines, Altissia, Blindness, Eventual Smut, M/M, Self-Medication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:08:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22981516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nanaa127/pseuds/nanaa127
Summary: Ignis' life was defined by his usefulness. His competence. His impeccable service to his prince. Who was he if those things were taken away?Ignis would do anything so he didn't have to find out.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 31
Kudos: 77
Collections: Ignis whump February exchange





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fizzfooz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fizzfooz/gifts).



> Happy belated Feb Whump, fizz! We're going to find out what happens when Ignis decides to repeatedly misuse some potions... Thanks for your patience, hope you like!

Peeling his right eyelid open - the left one still refused to move, not that it made much of a difference - Ignis shifted and then immediately froze as heat prickled furiously across his body. It caught him by surprise, and a deep groan escaped his lips before he could reel it back. There was no response to the sound, however, so Ignis assumed that he was alone. The chamberlain would have thanked the gods for small favors, but wasn't feeling particularly grateful at the moment.

Ignis thought that if he'd been pitched into complete darkness, perhaps it would have been easier to come to terms with his... altered state. There would have been a damning finality to it, a sense of no escape and no choice but for him to eventually accept his fate. Not calmly, and not without an invisible struggle, but yes, he thought that he could have possibly accepted it. He wasn't to be afforded such simple closure, however - instead, he'd been stranded in a grey, hazy world, one where blurred shapes taunted him and promised to become sharper if only he could focus more, try harder, be better - 

With a dismissive huff, the chamberlain forced his aching arms to sweep aside the blankets that had been tucked around him. _It will pass_ , he thought. It had to. It must.

Gritting his teeth against the pain that crackled through his nerves, Ignis forced himself upright. His skin still had the raw, overly tight feeling that followed the too-rapid, magical healing of traumatic injuries. Ignis vaguely remembered staring down at his own hands before his vision had melted away, distantly marveling at how his flesh had flaked off his bones in a small flurry of ash. He'd known then that he wasn't meant to survive, but it hadn't hurt. Not the way it did now. 

It was terribly odd, Ignis mused as he swung his legs around the edge of the mattress. The use of curatives was supposed to remove both the wounds and the accompanying symptoms. He'd already run questing fingers gently over his own skin, and they'd confirmed that he was more or less intact. Below the neck, anyway. Still, the echo of agony lingered on, radiating from the tight knots of fire that rested just beneath his useless eyes. 

Fumbling for his cane - it had only been a day and gods how he hated the thing already - Ignis haltingly made his way towards the bathroom and did his best to make himself presentable. He slowly tucked his shirt into his trousers, pushed his hair back off his forehead, and then slid the shades that Prompto had procured for him onto his face. Breathing in deeply, Ignis pressed his shoulders back, straightened his spine and pressed his lips into a flat line. Blind or not, he still had duties to attend to, no matter what Gladio and Prompto might argue.

When Noctis woke up, he would be ready. 

____________________

The loud clap of a slammed door burst through the air, and it took considerable effort for the chamberlain to avoid jumping in his chair like a startled chocobo chick. Only the fact that he'd anticipated the violent retreat - it was the only reasonable conclusion to be drawn from the sound of Gladio's thunderous stomps, after all - saved him from that particular embarrassment. Still, Ignis couldn't suppress a wave of humiliated frustration at how horrifyingly defenseless he felt. If he was this unbalanced now, in the relative safety of a hotel room amongst allies - 

"Gladio didn't mean it, Iggy. He's just, uh. Well. Mad, I guess."

Prompto's uncertain voice cut through the blood pounding in Ignis' ears, and right. Of course. The blonde was still in the room. Ignis silently commanded his racing heart to slow down, but the damned organ continued to pump at a sickening pace. "I'm sure," he replied absently.

"It's been hard for him, you know? I think he feels like he should have been there. For both of you. Um. All of you."

"I doubt it would have made a difference," Ignis murmured. Luna's death weighed heavily on Ignis' shoulders, but she had been lost even before he and Ravus had arrived. And the Chancellor... Gladio would have been nearly useless against such an overwhelming command of magic. Just as Ignis himself had been.

"Yeah. Yeah, maybe. Doesn't stop him from feeling bad, though." 

The chamberlain could suddenly envision Prompto curled up in a worn armchair, compressing himself so that he took up less space, made a smaller target for Gladio's hot fury and Ignis' brittle rejoinders. The mental image drained whatever little energy Ignis had managed to scrape up for the day and left him feeling sick and hollow. The pain behind his eyes had intensified over the past few hours, compounded by the headache that had been seeded by his tense exchange with Gladio. The need to be away, to get up and just _go_ , struck Ignis hard and fast. He stood abruptly.

"Iggy?"

"I'm going for a walk," Ignis said tersely.

"Oh. Uh, okay. I'll come with you - "

"No." Ignis' refusal snapped out much more harshly than he'd intended. "No," he repeated more gently. "I'll be fine. Stay here with Noctis, in case he wakes up." 

"Are you sure?" The skepticism in the blonde's question grated on Ignis' nerves. Was he now so helpless and inept that he couldn't be trusted to know his own mind? The chamberlain inhaled deeply, swallowing down the scathing response that threatened to spill out. _Control yourself_ , he silently admonished. Prompto wasn't the one that deserved his contempt.

"Quite sure," Ignis replied calmly. "I won't be long."

"Alright. Got your phone?" Worry colored Prompto's words.

"I do."

"Okay. Call if you need anything. And please, be careful, Iggy."

Before, he perhaps would have offered a small touch in unspoken thanks, but the thought of groping his way through the gesture was too exhausting to bear. Instead, he gave a shallow nod in the direction of Prompto's voice and made his careful, deliberate way out the door.

Ignis stepped outside for the first time since he'd woken to his new reality. Despite his blindness, Ignis was sharply aware of the shock that ruled the ruined streets of Altissia. The pleased hum of residents and tourists had been replaced with a frightened buzz that hung in the unnaturally still air. Every step he took, every tap of his cane, was accompanied by a small splash of water, courtesy of the Leviathan's rampage. 

He'd thought that escaping the hotel room, however cowardly, would provide him some measure of relief. As Ignis hesitantly made his way down one of the sidewalks that wrapped around the hotel, he found that distance didn't make his failures any easier to bear. Events had gone ruinously wrong so quickly, and they'd been unprepared - _Ignis_ had been unprepared. Inadequate. And now, in the aftermath of what was likely the most significant catastrophe of his life, the chamberlain found himself entirely ill-equipped to deal with the fallout. And Noct...dear gods, Noctis wasn't even awake yet.

Ignis' toe caught on a piece of debris and he tripped, stumbling gracelessly as he dropped his cane and flung his arms out in alarm. A few staggering steps to his right and Ignis collided with a wall rather than the damp ground. He sagged against it, pressing his forehead to the rough surface as he fought to center himself. Heat flared behind his eyes, skittered down the back of his neck and along the length of his spine. _Pathetic_ , he thought wearily. _Utterly pathetic._

"Sir? Are you alright?"

It took a moment before the chamberlain realized the shy question was directed at him. His entire face flushed warm as he straightened himself and self-consciously brushed off his sleeves. Of _course_ someone had witnessed his moment of clumsiness. "I'm fine, madam. Thank you." He turned to where he thought the speaker might be and gave a stiff little bow.

His polite gesture was met with a sharp gasp. "Oh. Oh, you're hurt. Your face..."

Ignis grimaced and could almost see the woman shrinking away from him. He wasn't overly vain of his appearance, but he could only imagine the mess left behind by the burns over his eyes. He thought that if he could actually see them, he'd be as disgusted as this woman so clearly was. The chamberlain ducked his head away and jerked badly when something hard and smooth was suddenly pressed into his hand.

"Here," the woman said as she closed his fingers around the objects. There was a rustle of fabric and the clink of glass against glass. "Take these. The hospitals are full, so clinics are selling these cheap for those in need. I'm bringing them to a shelter, but you look like you could use some."

_Potions._ He could tell by the shape and heft of the vial. Curatives were not as common outside of Lucis and would be a precious resource in such a terrible crisis. He shook his head. "I can't accept these."

"Please. Your wounds are...you look like you could use them."

Perhaps it couldn't hurt. Not when his face often still felt like it was still aflame, not when he was trapped in a half-lit shadow world, unable to find his way out. He refused to use any more of the curatives they had tucked away in the armiger - there was no telling what Noct might need when he woke up, and Ignis knew his friends had already used more than could be spared to save his life. But maybe...maybe a few more potions would help reduce the raw, scraped feeling of his supposedly healed burns. Maybe they could speed the restoration of his sight. Gladio's words from their earlier exchange bubbled up to the surface of his mind: _"What do you think you're gonna do when you're blind and can barely hold yourself up? Just go back to your fucking bed, Ignis."_

_There are people in this city whose needs for these are greater than my own. Who will not have the access that I do._ The chamberlain tightened his hold on the precious vials.

"Thank you for your kindness," he said quietly. 

"Of course. Take care of yourself," the woman replied. The clap of heeled shoes on wet stone faded away as the good samaritan continued on.

Ignis simply stood for a moment, but no one seemed to pay him any mind. He had been gifted the two potions in his hands, and more importantly, knowledge of an unexpected source where he may readily be able to get more. _Not just for myself,_ he thought. It was a weak excuse so he didn't bother continuing with the thought.

Exerting a bit of pressure, the chamberlain cracked open the first potion. He nearly moaned as a soothing web of magic enveloped him, cooling the pulsing pain in his skull and calming the flames under his skin. The reprieve was so profound that his knees nearly gave out, and Ignis slammed his hand against the wall to ensure that he remained standing. He hadn't even realized how terrible the ache was until it had disappeared. As quickly as the potion numbed his burns, however, its power receded just as rapidly, leaving behind nothing but the faint memory of relief. 

_Perhaps a second one -_

Ignis consumed the remaining potion and the results didn't seem to last any longer than the first, but... did his burns feel slightly less inflamed? Were the vague, dark shapes that plagued his vision perhaps a bit more defined? Did his body feel a bit lighter, a bit stronger? He'd never been one for self-delusion, but the chamberlain couldn't help but grasp desperately at the tiny sliver of hope that had presented itself.

Who was he if not Noctis' right-hand man? There was nothing Ignis could do to help his prince in his current condition, and it was galling to realize that he was at his most useless when Noct's need for a strong, unbroken advisor was at its greatest. If there was even the faintest of possibilities that Ignis could restore his eyesight, didn't he owe it to his prince to at least try? It wasn't a selfish desire. Ignis frowned and stubbornly set his jaw. He refused to be a burden.

_I want... I need to be whole._ For Gladio. For Prompto. For _Noct._ Yes. For them, he would try anything.


	2. Chapter 2

Two days later, and Noct still wasn't awake. The prince slumbered on, completely unaware that his companions were locked in a state of suspended animation. There was nothing that could be done, nothing that could be _fixed_ , until Noct awoke. 

Ignis had started taking the night shift in watching over his prince. It was difficult for him to sleep for more than a couple hours at a time, and it was easier to ignore his blindness when the entire world around him was dark, so it was hardly a sacrifice. There was no need for Prompto and Gladio to give up their rest, and it was...peaceful. Ignis wasn't trying to avoid his friends per se, but he simply wasn't very good company at the moment, and didn't need reminders of that fact.

"Hey. _Hey_. You're up." Ignis startled as an annoyed voice snapped almost directly in his ear, and Six but he was already very, very tired of being on edge all the time. A palm between his shoulder blades nudged him forward. It was nothing more than a slight shove, but Ignis hadn't been expecting it and he stumbled forward. The chamberlain managed to catch himself, however, before he could actually fall and further embarrass himself.

"Thank you," he murmured quietly as he inched forward. There should have been a table in front of him, and the edge would be somewhere - _ah_.

"Hand?" A voice, female and no-nonsense, issued from a shadowy blob that was roughly the same height as him.

"Pardon?" 

"Your left hand, sir. I'll need to check it."

"I...see." Well no, Ignis did not see, not in any sense of the word, but he carefully peeled off his glove and flexed his aching fingers. The skin of his hand was unnaturally smooth and soft; the faint ridge of calluses that had decorated his palm and fingertips from years and years of domestic labor and handling weapons had been melted away by the Ring and then further erased by the curatives that had restored his flesh. It was a stranger's hand that reached out towards the woman.

A tissue roughly swiped over the back of his hand and then abruptly released it. Ignis nearly flinched at the sudden touch - it felt like sandpaper. "What can I do for you?" the woman asked, sounding no less strident. _A tired nurse, perhaps_ , Ignis mused. _Or an unwilling volunteer._

The chamberlain straightened his spine and hoped that he didn't look as disreputable as he felt. "I was told I could find curatives here," he said softly, leaning forward as if telling a dirty little secret. 

"You were told right. What do you need them for?"

"I...well - " Ignis stuttered to a halt. _I need them so I can see again. I need them so I can be useful to Noct. I need them..._ The words were never going to come, so instead Ignis reached up and pulled the shades off his ruined face.

He expected a sharp intake of breath, a noise of revulsion, but instead the woman hummed consideringly. She spoke after a moment of what Ignis imagined was pitying scrutiny. "I'm no expert with these magic things, but I don't think they're gonna get rid of those scars. They look set."

"That's not..." Ignis gestured somewhat helpessly towards his eyes. "I'm hoping that they will help restore my vision." 

"Uh huh." The woman didn't sound terribly convinced. 

"They've helped," the chamberlain insisted. He could feel heat creep up his neck and flush his cheeks but kept his expression steady. _For Noct,_ he reminded himself. _For all of us._ "I can see more than I was able to, before. Shapes, and shadows. Light and dark." 

"Uh huh," she repeated flatly. "How did it happen?"

"During the summoning," Ignis murmured. "I was caught in the battle against the Hydraean."

"You were burned in a tidal wave?" The skepticism was biting, but Ignis was in no mood to argue over the details so he let it stand. Besides, compared with the gut punches that had been thrown his way the past few days, this small bit of suspicion was nothing more than an irritating flick on the ear. "I suppose stranger things have happened," the woman snorted.

"I suppose so," Ignis echoed.

A familiar clink of glass caught his ear and a plastic bag was shoved into his right hand. "Here. We can give you these. Five potions."

"Thank you." It was fewer than he'd hoped for, but more than he had to his name at the moment. He turned to go when the woman stopped him.

"I need your left hand again," she said.

With a frown, Ignis held it out once more. A wet, ridged surface pressed into the back of his hand. "It's a stamp. The ink is wash-resistant, but it will fade in forty-eight hours."

Ignis nodded before awkwardly pulling his glove back on; the generosity of the Altissian government would only stretch so far, and disasters brought out both the best as well as the worst in people. It was a duality with which Ignis was quite familiar.

Returning to the hotel, Ignis carefully tucked the bag in the drawer of the nightstand by his side of the bed. The chamberlain didn't know what time it was, but clearly it must not have been too late as Prompto was absent from their shared room. Taking advantage of the privacy, Ignis slowly lowered himself down onto the edge of the mattress. With a small groan, he removed his shades and let his head hang forward, rolling his shoulders as he tried to ease the tension from them. What he really needed, _wanted_ \- not that he'd admit it out loud, not now - was Gladio. The Shield had an uncanny sense for when the stress became overwhelming and would have no qualms about imposing himself on the royal advisor. Ignis supposed that there was something uniquely charming about Gladio's insistence that he _shut the fuck up and just get your workaholic ass into bed_. Despite the roughness of the request, the Shield had always been firm yet disarmingly tender in handling Ignis' wound-up body. The chamberlain imagined the big, warm figure hovering above him, strong fingers tracing gently down the curve of his back, the slope of his shoulders, the long line of his neck, before digging into the muscle and forcing the knots to yield to his ministrations. Sometimes the massages were a prelude to sex and sometimes not, but either way the chamberlain would end up loose-limbed and utterly relaxed. If the last few days were any indication, Ignis thought that it would be a very long time before he would be offered such care from Gladio, if ever.

A soft knock on the door interrupted his thoughts, and Ignis fumbled around for his shades. He cursed inwardly when he failed to find them - he'd left them _right there_ , for gods' sake - and managed to get to his feet before the door creaked open.

"Oh hey, Iggy. There you are. You got a minute?"

There were too many footsteps for Prompto to be alone. Ignis could make out three, maybe four faint silhouettes. They threatened to merge into one indistinct blur. A familiar pounding began to take up behind Ignis' eyes as he strained them in frustration.

"Of course, Prompto. What is it?"

"Mr. Scientia. Forgive the intrusion." Camelia Claustra's dry drawl was unmistakeable. Ignis straightened his back and resisted the urge to hide is exposed face.

"Of course, Secretary Claustra. What can I do for you?"

"I'm sorry for dropping in on you unannounced, but there are matters that I'd like to discuss, and it appears that Noctis is still indisposed." One shadow appeared to separate from the blob. "I hope you are recovered from your own injuries?"

"They are...improving. Thank you for your concern," Ignis murmured.

"That is good to hear. It's miraculous, what these curatives can do. I heard your wounds were quite dire. How fortunate it is for Lucians to have such a treasure at their disposal." 

The chamberlain inclined his head. "It is a treasure that we are happy and willing to share with our allies in their time of need." Ignis pushed away a flash of guilt.

"Indeed. The generosity of Lucis is greatly appreciated. Of course, I'm afraid that the citizens of Altissia might not have needed them so badly if the summoning hadn't been a complete catastrophe, wouldn't you agree?"

A jolt of surprise ran through Ignis and he fiercely suffocated it before it could show. "On behalf of my king, I extend my deepest apologies for the damage inflicted on your city and your people," Ignis said calmly. "However, I'd like to emphasize that the summoning was undertaken with explicit permission."

"Be that as it may," Claustra countered, "I am disappointed that more precautions weren't taken to protect my citizens."

The chamberlain grit his teeth and decided not to remind the First Secretary that the Imperials were responsible for a large proportion of the destruction. This was a game, and Claustra would not appreciate it if he tried to deflect blame, no matter how deserved. She'd also done her best to protect Noctis and Luna's reputation in the immediate aftermath, and for that, Ignis was willing to play along. "What can Lucis do to make amends?" he asked instead.

There was so much that could be gleaned from a person's body language, unspoken information that could be gathered from the small tilt of a head, the minute quirk of an eyebrow, the slight narrowing of eyes. The ability to read those cues had been the tools of a royal advisor's trade, and Ignis had excelled at wielding them, once upon a time. Before. Now, he simply held his breath and waited for the First Secretary's answer. A silent minute passed, and then another, before she finally said, "Walk with me, Mr Scientia."

Ignis pursed his lips before nodding; he strongly disliked the idea of baring his weakness to this woman - or anyone, really. The ache in his head was intensifying and beginning to reach down past the base of his skull and into the nape of his neck. Ignis held himself still instead of rolling his shoulders again as he wanted. "If you wish," he said politely.

As he turned to search for his cane, he felt someone take his hand and place it on an unfamiliar arm, and the chamberlain just barely avoided yanking his hand away in surprise. Soft, luxurious cloth, perhaps a finely woven wool, rested under his fingers. "Follow me," Claustra said. "I'd be happy to guide you."

She led him through the long, carpeted corridors of the hotel and then outside into the streets. Ignis thought they were likely alone; there were no telltale footsteps behind them. Their conversation continued as they wandered through the city, taking enough ups and downs and turns that, despite his effort to squint for landmarks, Ignis soon became disoriented with no idea as to where they were. He didn't think Claustra meant him any harm, but his gut tightened in anticipation nonetheless and his nerves jangled with wariness. He'd thought he'd been hiding it well until they came to a stop. 

"Am I making you nervous, Mr. Scientia?" Claustra asked.

"No," Ignis replied. He waved his free hand vaguely in the direction of his face. "I'm still...adjusting."

"Yes, of course. Forgive me for forcing you on this trek. It was thoughtless of me," the Secretary murmured.

_Much easier to ask forgiveness than permission,_ Ignis thought. "It's fine," he said instead. It wasn't as if he'd been dragged along against his will.

"Do you know where we are?" 

The chamberlain bit back his irritation and instead tried to focus on his surroundings. A salty breeze whipped past his face and ruffled his unstyled hair, the wind much fiercer here than it was near the hotel. He could hear water lapping against stone, but other than that, it was unsettlingly quiet. And really, there was only one place they could be.

"The Altar of the Tidemother," Ignis replied.

"Or what's left of it," Claustra said. "Much of it broke away during the summoning and the chaos afterwards. It's a shame - it stood for eons, before the Oracle and your king arrived in our city."

Ignis sighed. His patience was rapidly eroding, hastened along by the pain pulsing at his temples and down his spine. His pain threshold was normally very high, but it had been tested too much and too often in the past few days. "What do you want, Secretary Claustra?"

"Accordo has been under the thumb of the Empire for a long time," she said quietly. "I want what I've always wanted. Complete autonomy for my home. That's why I allowed the summoning to go on. My city and its people have paid a dear price for that decision, Mr. Scientia. I need to know it was worth it. We need to know that your king will finish what he's started."

A swell of grief rose up in his chest, so strong and unexpected that the chamberlain feared he might vomit. He pressed a hand against his belly, swallowing back the bile that burned the back of his throat. The prophecy, Noct's fate - Noctis was going to die. _Noctis was going to die._

The knowledge that had been thrust upon him had seemed unreal until that moment. It had lurked in the back corners of his mind, like the bubbling black sludge that warned of a daemon's impending appearance. And now - 

_Noctis is going to die._

_It has been prophecied. It is his fate._

_He is going to die, and there is nothing you can do about it._

_Nothing._

"No," Ignis whispered. "No." 

"I beg your pardon? Did you say 'no'?" The First Secretary sounded shocked.

Ignis shook his head. He couldn't - he couldn't possibly ask Noctis to finish this journey. Not when Ignis didn't have a solution. Not yet. The chamberlain refused to allow Noct to pay such a high price, not when there might be some exception, some tiny loophole that would allow his king to live. His hands curled into fists. The urge to go to Noct, to reassure himself that his charge was still alive and breathing, suddenly clawed at Ignis, brutal and insistent.

"Mr. Scientia - "

"I'm sorry," Ignis interrupted, chest heaving as he fought to calm himself. "I'm sorry for your losses, and I promise that we will do everything we can, but I...I'd like to go back, now."

"Very well. It's getting late anyway."

The two made their way back to the hotel, and Ignis was struggling not to stumble like a drunkard by the time they returned. He released his grip on the First Secretary and, leaning heavily against the walls for support, staggered his way towards Noctis' room. He gracelessly crashed through the door and lurched over towards the bed, unheeding of the chairs that got in his way. Ignis fell heavily to his knees, scraping about until he found what he was looking for - Noct's hand, familiar and warm and lax.

The advisor gently curled his own fingers around his king's and bowed his head. _He's alive. Alive alive alive._ He slowly exhaled and willed his pounding heart to slow.

"Iggy? For fuck's sake Ignis, answer me!"

Gladio grabbed Ignis' shoulder tightly and shook him - judging by the frantic tone of his voice, it wasn't the first time he'd called Ignis' name. The chamberlain released Noct's hand and carefully placed it back on the mattress. The haze of panic that had driven him into the room was slowly beginning to dissipate.

"My apologies for the abrupt intrusion," Ignis said stiffly. He gathered up the tattered remains of his dignity and tiredly pushed himself to his feet. He'd been stupid to forget that Prompto or Gladio would be watching over Noct.

Gladio sighed. "Fucking Six, Ignis," he said sharply. "I almost took your damn head off when you ran in here like that. What the hell's gotten into you?"

"It's nothing," Ignis said. "Again, my apologies. I didn't mean to startle you."

"Whatever," Gladio grumbled, sounding so much like Noct that Ignis had to fight the completely inappropriate urge to start laughing. If he started, the chamberlain was fairly certain that he wouldn't be able to stop. "You alright?"

His head felt like it was caught in a vice, squeezing so hard that he wondered whether his useless eyes would burst out of his skull like overripe tomatoes, spraying blood and viscous matter everywhere. _What a mess that would be_ , he thought distantly. The nausea that had plagued him earlier returned in full force. Ignis took a deep breath and turned to leave before he could embarrass himself further by being sick all over Gladio's shoes. "I'm fine, thank you."

"Sure you are," Gladio muttered.

"I'll be back soon to relieve you," Ignis said as he carefully made for the door.

"Uh huh," was the only reply he got. For a moment, Ignis thought that the Shield might follow him, but he was allowed to leave the room undisturbed. A tendril of disappointment unfurled but Ignis roughly brushed it away. There was no time for such petty regrets. Not when their king's life was on the line.

Ignis staggered his way back to his shared room and immediately fumbled his way towards the nightstand. Yanking the drawer open, he grabbed his bag and upended the contents on the bed. He crushed one vial and then another. A third followed and Ignis collapsed against the mattress, pressing his lips together as another surge of nausea assaulted him before reluctantly receding. He held his hand up to his face and flexed his fingers, grimacing as they remained stubbornly indistinct. The pain might be gone, but the relief that he was after still appeared to be out of his reach. _Perhaps it takes some time. It will be better tomorrow._

The chamberlain stuffed the remaining two precious potions back into the bag before wearily laying himself out. He didn't know how much time had passed before he heard the door creak open. Ignis pushed himself upright, and damn if he still didn't know where his shades were.

"Iggy? There you are!" Prompto's boyish voice greeted him. "Did you just get back?"

"I did," Ignis replied. "Did you want something, Prompto?" 

"Nah." The mattress dipped as the blonde settled down next to Ignis. "Just, you know. Wanted to say hi. I haven't seen much of you guys, lately. Uh, not that I need to like, actually see you. Seeing is totally overrated. What I meant - "

"Prompto. It's fine," Ignis interrupted. There was no telling when Prompto would stop when after he gathered steam. "I don't mind."

"Yeah but - "

"It's _fine_ ," he repeated. "My vision will improve with time." 

"I'm sure it will, Iggy." Prompto had the decency to sound utterly sincere. After a short pause he asked, "Hey, you hungry? Wanna grab a bite?"

The lingering upset in his stomach robbed Ignis of his appetite so he shook his head. "Go on without me," he said. 

"Oh, okay then." The dejection in the blonde's voice prompted Ignis to reach out and touch in apology. It was much easier, when his friend was sitting right by his side. Prompto immediately leaned into him, a light, warm weight against Ignis' side.

"Perhaps Gladio might like to join you?" 

"Maybe. I doubt it, though," Prompto said plaintively.

Ignis fought the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. Just a few days without the fulcrum of Noct's presence, and they were holding together as well as soggy bread. While it was disheartening to realize how quickly they'd fallen apart, most of Ignis' disappointment was directed inward. As the royal advisor, it was Ignis' duty to step in and manage when Noct was otherwise...indisposed. _And a fine job you've done,_ he thought acidly.

"Anyway," the blonde continued, "What did that lady want?"

"She wanted to...provide updates on the recovery efforts in the city," the chamberlain lied. "They seem to be well underway." Ignis was not going to be discussing the prophecy or the fate that awaited Noctis at the end of their journey. Not with Prompto, not with anyone. Not until Ignis had solved that problem and there was no longer any reason to have such a discussion.

"Oh, well that's good. I think Gladio's been helping out, when he can."

_Ah. So that's where he's been disappearing to_. Ignis supposed he should be glad that the Shield was using his time productively.

"Excellent. If you'll excuse me, Prompto, I believe it's my turn to go watch over Noct."

"Iggy." Prompto sounded uncharacteristically somber as he caught Ignis' arm. "Hey. You know that if you like, need help or anything, I'm here for you, right? We all are."

Irritation flashed through Ignis as he tore himself away from Prompto's touch. He wasn't a bloody _invalid_ , to be coddled and pitied and treated as though he was some wilting flower incapable of -

Except that was exactly what he was. Prompto obviously agreed, and Six only knew what Gladio was thinking. And Noct...

Ignis swallowed back his annoyance. Prompto of all people didn't deserve his ire, especially when Ignis knew that there was really one appropriate target for it. The advisor could clearly imagine the hurt that would have flashed across the blonde's face at Ignis' harsh reaction and he cleared his throat.

"Thank you, Prompto," Ignis said, words calm and controlled. _Good._ "I appreciate the offer, but I'm fine."

"Uh, okay. If you say so. Oh, and here, I almost sat on these. Not sure if you need them at night." Something hard and irregularly shaped was pressed into his hand. His shades.

With a nod of thanks, Ignis slid the glasses onto his face and bid Prompto a good night. It was time he started doing what he was best at - thinking - and the chamberlain figured he would find more than enough motivation sitting by the unconscious figure of his king.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...I'm not dead, and neither is this fic! Sorry it's taken so long to update, but I promise this will be finished. Have finally gotten my butt into gear for real - it's amazing what happens when you're forced to stay at home and can't work much... The summary for this story will also likely change as the focus of it seems to be shifting from what I'd originally intended (sorry fizzfooz, I hope it still ends up being acceptable!). Anyway, thanks for your patience!


	3. Chapter 3

Any hopes that Ignis had that Noct's awakening would improve matters were soon dashed. The king had been understandably devastated by news of Luna's passing and responded by withdrawing into himself. Ignis saw shades of Noctis' teenage self - he'd been quiet and remote then too, when the reality of Regis' deteriorating state could no longer be ignored. It had taken months, perhaps years, for Noct to accept the truth and come out of his prickly shell. Ignis could only hope that it wouldn't take so long now, not when they were on the verge of crumbling.

Noct had refused to give up his quest, and Ignis hadn't pushed. It was not the chamberlain's place to bend the king to his will, and if Noctis was determined to continue, then it was Ignis' job to find a solution. And he would, even if it meant throwing himself at the mercy of Lucis' dead royals, over and over and over again.

Their departure from Altissia had been rather abrupt, but they'd already lingered far too long in one place. Gladio's impatience was a live, crackling thing, snarling and snapping at the end of its leash. The majority of the Shield's frustration was aimed at Noctis, who had thus far been fairly passive in response. Ignis had tried his best to smooth over the harsh words and bridge the rift between Shield and King, but being trapped in close quarters - first on the yacht and now on the train - it was obvious that an explosion was imminent. The promise of one hung heavily in the air, like thick, cloying humidity before a violent thunderstorm, and just the thought of managing the resulting fallout exhausted Ignis.

Ignis stretched one arm above his head, his fingers bumping up against the side wall of the sleeper car. His feet and ankles hung off the other end of the small bed. It had been a constant inconvenience for him and Gladio during their travels across Lucis - the cots in caravans and even some of the beds in the cheaper motels had rarely been big enough to accomodate their long frames. Gladio would throw himself down, grumbling under his breath about the crappy rooms, and then immediately curl himself around Ignis, wrapping his arms and legs around the slender man like a muscle-bound octopus.

_"There," the Shield growled smugly, "problem solved."_

_"I would hardly call this a solution," Ignis returned, threading his own legs through Gladio's._

_"My feet ain't hanging off the end anymore. That's good enough for me."_

_"Hmm. I'll be sure to remind you of this conversation when you wake up tomorrow stiff and cramped."_

_"Stiff, huh? We don't have to wait until tomorrow to talk about how stiff I am," Gladio leered, slowly grinding his hips against Ignis' thigh. His growing interest was very apparent._

_Ignis gave the Shield a thoroughly unimpressed look even as his hands trailed down Gladio's solid chest. "Dear gods, that was utterly terrible. I hope you're ashamed of yourself."_

_Gladio's arms tightened around him. "Oh yeah. Totally ashamed. Are you going to punish me?"_

_If Ignis was the type to roll his eyes, that would have been his cue. "It's a miracle you're able to lure anyone into your bed."_

_Ignis allowed himself to be manhandled as the larger man shifted their positions. Gladio braced himself on top of Ignis, his elbows bracketing the chamberlain's head. "Don't need to," Gladio murmured as he nipped greedily at Ignis' lips. "Already got someone gorgeous in my bed."_

_The royal advisor tilted his head back to meet the kisses with equal hunger. "Oh, is that right?"_

_For a moment, Gladio paused in his personal mission to ravage Ignis' mouth and pulled back. He stared down at Ignis, his eyes wide and serious. "You're fucking beautiful, Iggy, you know that?"_

_Ignis smiled. "I'm glad you think so."_

With a small sigh, Ignis rolled onto his side and forced the memory away, tucking his knees in towards his belly. He didn't need to see to know that his face was likely a wreck, marred by horrible burns and a pair of unseeing eyes. Perhaps that was why Gladio wouldn't touch him, why neither Noct not Gladio would barely speak to him, because they couldn't bear the sight of Ignis' hideously scarred face - 

_Stop it,_ he reprimanded himself, inhaling deeply to settle the burning ache in his chest and behind his eyes. He rapidly blinked the one eyelid that still worked. _Let it go. There are far more pressing matters to concern yourself with._

Despite dosing himself regularly, it was difficult to tell whether the curatives were having any effect on his damaged eyes. There were some days when he thought that maybe...? Maybe the world was a bit less hazy, maybe the division between light and dark was a little more defined. The headaches had eased a bit, and his skin no longer felt so tight, but now he was plagued by a persistent malaise, punctuated by intermittent bouts of sickness that left him shaking and weak. He'd thus far managed to be discrete, and thankfully, no one seemed to have noticed. _It will pass,_ he thought wearily.

Another sigh escaped him as he clutched tightly at the hard, smooth vial in his grip. He had been careful to keep his own small stash separate and hidden from the larger stockpile of curatives that their group pulled from. In their sudden rush to leave Altissia, Ignis had resorted to peddling some of his personal effects in order to purchase potions and other, stronger curatives. His conscience wouldn't allow him to continue taking advantage of the clinics, and so he'd sold some belongings that he thought he wouldn't miss - his older weapons, his finer clothing, and in one humiliating instance, his mouth. _For Noct,_ he'd reminded himself as he'd gotten on his knees in an alley and conceded to having a stranger's cock shoved down his throat. Ignis supposed it was fortunate he hadn't been asked for more.

Even if there was a sliver of a chance that his vision could be restored, it was worth it - of course it was. And so Ignis squeezed the potion in his hand and released the healing magic inside. The cool rush that swept through him was intimately familiar, and he had only a moment to enjoy it before - 

The chamberlain bolted upright as nausea suddenly swelled up. It was so strong that he nearly vomited on himself, and only an act of sheer willpower forced the sickness down. Clamping one hand over his mouth, Ignis breathed in deeply through his nose, commanding his stomach to settle. It seemed to work, but only for a brief minute before the queasiness rolled through him again, more intense than the first wave. Ignis launched himself from the cot, scrambling for the door. The restroom was just a few feet down from their compartment, and he absolutely refused make a mess until he reached it.

He slid the door open with a hasty bang and lurched into the corridor. There was someone in the way, blocking his path to the restroom, and Ignis desperately scrabbled past the large body. The chamberlain thought he might have heard his name, but he dismissed it as unimportant. The only important thing was getting to the damned toilet before his body finally succeeded in rebelling.

Ignis just barely made it before the contents of his stomach overturned. There wasn't much to bring up as his appetite had deserted him in the past week, but he couldn't seem to stop retching, groaning miserably as bile and gods knew what else dripped from his lips. It seemed like an eternity before his stomach finally took pity on him and the nausea abated. 

Sides heaving with exertion, Ignis clung limply to the toilet bowl, feeling as though he'd been wrung out like a dirty sponge. It was only when the feeling of utter wretchedness began to slowly subside that he realized there was something cool and damp draped over the back of his neck. Ignis' shoulders tensed in embarrassment at being caught in such an undignified state.

"All done?" 

Of course Gladio would choose this very moment to directly acknowledge Ignis' existence. Why the Shield had decided to jam himself into the tiny lavatory alongside Ignis' sprawled form was a mystery that the chamberlain was in no mood to unravel. Ignis spat into the toilet once more and grimaced. He felt lightheaded. Hollow. "I believe so, yes."

"Ready to get up?"

Rather than answer, Ignis began to climb to his feet, moving slowly to keep the dizziness from worsening. Gladio firmly gripped his elbow and steadied the advisor as he leaned heavily against the small sink and rinsed out his mouth.

"So what the hell was that? You coming down with something?"

"It's nothing. I'm fine, now." The Shield was standing so close behind him that Ignis could feel the warmth radiating from Gladio. He wanted to lean back into the solid heat, but he resisted. There was no telling how Gladio would react, and at the moment, Ignis didn't have the strength to deal with outright rejection. 

Gladio snorted. "'Nothing'? Ignis, you were puking up your godsdamn guts like it's going out of style. That ain't nothing." 

"It must have been something I ate," the chamberlain insisted warningly, allowing his growing annoyance to show through. He drew himself in, shielding himself in the prickly armor that had served him so well in the past. "I appreciate the concern, but I assure you, I am fine."

"What you are is a fucking terrible liar," Gladio snapped back. "You would have to actually eat something for it to make you sick. I'm not fucking blind."

Ignis inhaled sharply. His knuckles turned white as his fingers tightened around the edge of the sink. "That will be all, Gladiolus."

It seemed as though Gladio heard his own words a beat too late. "Shit, Iggy. I didn't..."

"Please leave."

A whisper of cloth brushed against his back, the lavatory door slammed open and then, Ignis was alone. It was stupid to be hurt, to be offended. Stupid to care. It wasn't as if his blindness was some sort of secret, to be whispered about in dark corners and never to be acknowledged. He would deal with it. Was dealing with it. It took only a few moments before Ignis restored his composure. That Gladio had caught him in a compromised state was unfortunate, but there was nothing to be done for it now. He could only hope that the Shield would leave the matter alone.

____________________

"Hey, Specs. Mind if I join you?"

The shy question roused Ignis from the half-dreaming state he'd sunk into. "Of course, Noct. You don't need to ask."

He was tired but in no mood to return to the tiny sleeper compartment that he shared with Gladio, and so he'd stayed in the passenger car, dozing as he leaned against the wide windows. He was left sitting alone after his three friends had wandered off after the rather spectacular row between Gladio and Noct. Ignis had known it was coming, but hadn't expected it to be quite such a punch to the gut. Or so...public. Every bone in his body had wanted to after the young king, but instinct had held him back. There were certain matters in which even Ignis couldn't interfere.

A dark shadow shuffled into the seat directly across from him, barely distinguishable from the murkiness around him. There was a loud clatter as Ignis' cane was accidentally knocked to the floor.

"Oh shit. Sorry, let me just - " The walking stick was retrieved and carefully replaced by Ignis' knee. "That okay?" Noct asked uncertainly.

"Perfectly," Ignis murmured.

"Good. Sorry," Noct repeated.

The chamberlain might not have been able to see his charge clearly, but after almost two decades of a near symbiotic relationship, Ignis knew exactly what Noct looked like at this very moment. His elbow would be propped up on the narrow ledge under the window, head tilted to the side and supported by the hand cradling his jaw. His body would be slightly slouched - and how often had Ignis told him to sit up straight as befitting a royal? - but there would be tension in his shoulders. That, and the small line bisecting his brow, would be the only things to betray the turmoil that Ignis knew was roiling inside his king.

Silence lapsed between them. It was no longer as comfortable as it had once been, but Ignis waited. Patience was one of the very few things he was still able to exercise, one of the few skills that had been left intact in the wake of Altissia. Noctis would talk when he was ready, and Ignis wouldn't push, not yet.

"How...how are you doing?" Noct asked after a few minutes.

"I'm doing well," Ignis said. Despite what Gladio had said to him earlier, Ignis knew himself to be an excellent liar when he had to be. "The curatives mended the worst of the damage."

"Except for your..." Noct's voice trailed off.

"Yes, except for that. I'm hopeful that my eyes will heal as well, eventually."

"Eventually," Noct echoed. "Does it hurt?"

_Yes._ "Not at all."

Another pause, and Noctis' breathing was growing suspiciously heavy and wet. "Specs, I'm... I don't... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Something in his chest wrenched terribly, and so Ignis hauled his fatigued body out of his seat and dropped down next to the king. He didn't touch; Noct would know that his close proximity was an offer of comfort, to be taken and used if needed. "Noctis, listen to me carefully. You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for," the advisor said firmly. "Nothing at all."

"But you, and Luna... I couldn't _do_ anything. You both... gods, I'm so fucking useless." 

"Stop this, Noct. Such thoughts will get you nowhere." Ignis' words were harsh, but his tone was gentle. "You did exactly what you were supposed to do, what the Oracle expected you to do."

"Fuck," Noct breathed. " _Fuck._ "

"What Lunafreya chose to do - she thought it was her responsibility. Her duty. Her sacrifice wasn't just for you, Noct. It was for Lucis. For Accordo, for Tenebrae. We all bear the weight of her death."

"I know that," Noctis whispered. "I just... I wish she didn't have to. It's so fucking unfair."

"It is," Ignis agreed wearily. "She was a remarkable woman."

"Yeah." Noct shifted and the tiny sliver of space between their bodies disappeared as he pressed himself tentatively against Ignis' side. "I'm going to miss her."

Ignis hummed and wrapped an arm around Noct. "I know. We all will."

_It's too much,_ Ignis thought. _Too much._ They had never taken the time to properly mourn after the fall of the Crown City. Noct had been thrust into one quest after another, determinedly pushing on until...well. Until he couldn't push anymore, Ignis supposed. And for what? So that he could play sacrificial lamb when the time came? Ignis' arm tightened as a starburst of fury lit up the back of his dead eyes. 

"And you. I never thought something like this would happen. Not to you, Specs. Not you."

Curious fingers brushed against his cheekbone, right at the edge of the worst scarring. Ignis couldn't help but flinch at the unexpected touch.

"Oh gods, sorry! Sorry, I didn't mean to... I don't know why I did that."

The chamberlain shushed Noct and resisted the urge turn away and hide his damaged face. "It's alright. Like I said, it's healed. No need to apologize."

Noctis sighed and settled his head against Ignis' shoulder. He didn't try to touch Ignis' skin again. "I hate this. I never wanted any of you to be hurt, because of me."

Ignis buried his nose in Noctis' hair, reveling in the closeness. The chamberlain thought he could still detect the sweet scent of the small child that had once clung to him so tightly, scared of so many things - thunderstorms, spiders, squirrels, the old Councilman that refused to admit he was going deaf and ended up shouting at everyone, including the young crown prince. It had been so much easier to shield Noct from his fears, then. "I know," Ignis murmured. "It's not your fault, Noct."

"And I do care. About you. About everyone." Noctis sounded small. Uncertain. As if he wasn't sure that his love was enough.

"I never doubted it," Ignis assured him. _Damn the Shield and his temper._ "Gladio didn't mean it."

"Yeah, he did," Noct muttered darkly. "Because Gladio's a giant asshole."

A wry chuckle escaped the chamberlain. "Be that as it may, he cares about you, Noct. He simply wants you to do your best."

"He's got a funny fucking way of showing it," Noct grumbled.

"He certainly does have a way with words," Ignis said dryly. Despite his love of literature, no one would ever mistake Gladiolus Amicitia for a poet. "Regardless, he has your back, Noct. Always. We all do."

They sat in silence once more, and Ignis forced himself to stay awake, to be present for this moment. The low hum of queasiness was manageable, but he was drained in a way that he hadn't felt since his official introduction as the the prince's royal advisor. _Those had been good days,_ Ignis mused, when his most crucial worries had been whether Noct had actually read the Council meeting minutes Ignis had taken for him, and whether he'd be able to go a third day on two hours of sleep. Those little things had all seemed so important, then.

Ignis' arm had nearly grown numb by the time Noct moved. "Thanks, Specs," Noctis whispered. He pressed a chaste kiss at the corner of Ignis' mouth, a soft, fleeting little thing, and then he was gone.

"You're welcome," Ignis murmured. He didn't deserve the thanks but clung to it anyway, like a drowning man clinging to a piece of driftwood in the middle of a dark, turbulent sea.


	4. Chapter 4

A couple days later, the train pulled into the station at Cartanica. It was the closest they'd be able to get to the Fodina Caestino mine and so they decided to disembark, four ragged threads unraveling at the edges of an unfinished tapestry. Noctis didn't want him to go, which was both endearing and disheartening. Not that it mattered - in some things, Ignis' duty superseded even Noctis' own wants and desires, and the advisor had no intention of being anywhere but by his king's side. _If nothing else, I can be an obstacle_ , Ignis thought resignedly. _Something for the monsters to stumble over_.

He'd been forced to skip his curative use the day they left for the royal tomb. Ignis might have been desperate but he wasn't a fool - he could hardly deny the fact that they were having an unfortunate effect on his health. Stubborn hope was one thing, but the reality of facing a dangerous situation even more debilitated than he already was...well. Choices made themselves, sometimes.

Somewhat shockingly, their attempt to take down the malboros luking in the quarry and retrieve the royal arm was a resounding success. Adrenaline proved to be a remarkable antidote for the weakness that plagued Ignis. With the thrill of a brutal fight singing through his veins, he felt like himself for the first time in a very long while. _I can do this_ , he thought fiercely as he launched another fire bomb into the fray. _I_ will _do this_. 

The precious, newfound knowledge that he might be useful, that he could still serve, was enough reignite the wild hope that he could soon be _himself_ , whole and well. That hope gave him the strength to yank his friends back into line, to address them as equals once more, because for gods' sake enough was enough. Ignis knew perfectly well that his crippled state was partly the cause for the fractures amongst them, and it seemed to be the ideal time for him to address the issue head on, while still basking in their hard-fought victory.

"I won't suffer this pointless bickering in silence any longer," Ignis said firmly. "My vision may not have improved quite yet, but in spite of this, I would remain with you all, till the very end."

Unsurprisingly, Gladio was the first to fire back. "Sorry, but I object. War is a matter of life and death."

"But we'll be there," Prompto jumped in, lighting a spark of warmth in Ignis. The chamberlain had always approved of Prompto's loyalty to Noct, but hadn't quite appreciated how deep and far his steadfastness ran until recently.

"It's not about us looking after him," Gladio argued. 

"Okay, fine. It's Iggy's life, then. He should get to choose what he wants to do with it," Prompto returned stubbornly.

"There's more to it than just what he wants."

The advisor sighed. He had effectively signed his life over to the line of Lucis when he was six - it had been a very long time since his life had been about 'just what he wanted'. Ignis was disappointed and slightly offended that the Shield would even say such a thing. "I know full well," he insisted. "I won't ask you to slow down. If I can't keep up, I will bow out."

The Shield had eventually capitulated, admitting defeat with far more grace than Ignis had expected. "We're still taking a big risk," he grumbled before finally falling silent. As far as parting shots went it was blessedly tame, and so Ignis allowed Gladio to have the last word.

As they made their way back to Cartanica, Ignis fell in beside Noctis. He'd been conspicuously silent during the entire exchange, and the chamberlain somewhat belatedly realized that decisions had been made without Noct's input.

"Noct," Ignis said quietly. "Please accept my apologies. It wasn't my intention to force your hand."

Noct sighed. "Yeah," he muttered. "I know it wasn't."

The adrenaline that had carried Ignis through the battle was slowly fading, and with it, his energy reserves. Sharp aches and pains were beginning to reveal themselves; he'd stayed mostly on the periphery of the fight, but had apparently still managed to collect scrapes and bruises. He pushed them away in favor of focusing on his charge. "But?"

"It's not that I don't think you can do it, Specs. It's just that..." Noct's voice trailed off. "I don't know. I'm just worried, I guess."

Ignis' cane had managed to skip over a large rock protruding out of the dirt path they were following, and his toe caught on it. On a better day perhaps he would have caught himself, but as it was, Ignis found himself crashing to the ground. The chamberlain landed hard on his side, jarring a deep ache in his ribs. A surprised grunt of pain escaped him.

"Specs? Are you alright?" Familiar hands grabbed his shoulders and propped him up.

"I'm fine. I just tripped." A ridiculous thing to admit, but Ignis was slowly resigning himself to the fact that everything in his new - temporary - reality was faintly ridiculous. An errant knee pressed into his chest and Ignis flinched.

"Shit, sorry! Are you hurt? Dammit Specs, why didn't you say anything?"

"Bruised ribs, nothing more," Ignis assured Noct. 

"Are you sure? Do you need a potion?"

In the past, Ignis was certain he would have accepted without second thought; bruised ribs were, after all, painful and annoying. Now, Ignis thought he'd rather not undermine his precarious position even further by vomiting all over his king. He could wait until he was locked inside the privacy of the train's lavatory. "No need to waste curatives on a mere inconvenience," Ignis said, waving away the offer. "Especially when we're traveling into the heart of enemy territory."

The chamberlain climbed shakily to his feet and was surprised when Noct cautiously wrapped an arm around his waist. "I got you, Specs," Noctis said softly. "Ready?"

"As ever," Ignis replied. 

____________________

"Shit, where'd he go?"

"I'm assuming our new friend is no longer where you left him." A shame - Ignis had been eager to hear about how rapidly daylight had been dwindling beyond Lucian borders.

"I fucking told him to stay put," Gladio muttered, sounding incredibly put out.

"Well, I can't imagine why he didn't if you asked so nicely," Ignis said dryly. He couldn't see Gladio's expression but could easily imagine the irritation writ large over his face.

"Hilarious. Wait here, I'll go find him."

"I can come with you," Ignis offered.

"No," Gladio said quickly. "You look like... no, just park your ass here. I'll be right back."

Ignis frowned but didn't argue. As the Shield's shadowy figure melted into the background, Ignis sagged against the seats, exhausted by the short walk through the train cars. The chamberlain could only imagine what Gladio had been about to say, if he looked even half as bad as he felt.

Getting out of bed that morning had been a challenge. He'd woken dizzy and nauseous, shivering with cold even though it was quite warm in the sleeping compartment. Luckily, he'd been the last to rise - a rarity, that - and so no one had been around to witness his fumbling as he went through his morning routine. He'd hoped that he'd achieved some semblance of normalcy by the time he rejoined the others, but clearly he hadn't done as well as he'd thought.

The chamberlain didn't know how long he'd been waiting for Gladio to return when he heard footsteps approaching. His head snapped up as the hair on the back of his neck stood up. Something felt...off.

"Hello, my dear boy! Fancy meeting you here."

There was no mistaking that smug, oily voice. Ignis pushed himself away from the seat he'd been leaning on and lifted his chin. "Chancellor Izunia."

"Oh come now, there's no need for us to stand on such formalities, is there?" Ardyn's voice coiled around Ignis, slick and dangerous like a venomous snake ready to strike. "I'd like to think we're beyond that. I find there is such intimacy in facing off in battle, when all your fears and weaknesses are laid bare before your opponent. Don't you agree?"

Ignis grit his teeth. Fear for Noctis bubbled up in his chest, thick and rancid. He tried to turn so he could run back to where they'd left Noct waiting, but found that he was frozen in place. "What do you want?"

"It's a marvelous question, but I'm afraid we don't have time to delve into such...complicated matters," Ardyn said. "Besides, I'd much rather discuss _you_ , lovely Ignis." A light touch traced his uneven eyebrows and then trailed down to circle the massive scar over his left eye. Ignis tried to jerk away but even that small motion was denied. And his shades - he hadn't felt Ardyn slide them off his face, but they were gone. "Although, I suppose you're not so lovely anymore, are you? Pity."

"What do you want?" Ignis repeated. Gods, he needed to get away from here. He needed to find Noct...Gladio...Prompto. Where were they? Were they alright? Ignis tamped down on something that was most definitely not panic. There was something wrong with the train, it was too quiet, too still - 

"Tell me, do your friends treat you differently, now that you're defective?"

The chamberlain clamped his mouth shut. He was not going to give this odious, dangerous man the satisfaction of playing his little game, whatever it was. 

"I will admit, I thought you were a bit of a bore, the very first time we met. Had I known that you'd be willing to demand the power of kings, and that you'd not only find their favor but survive the experience...well. Perhaps I would have paid more attention to Noct's devoted little advisor." Ignis could practically feel the heat and weight of the other man's body, and imagined the chancellor circling him like a coeurl circling its prey. Its victim. The chamberlain clenched his fists. 

"It is a bit of a shame, though. I'm sure you're aware of the prophecy." Ardyn's hand cupped his jaw almost tenderly. "You've so selflessly damaged yourself for nothing, I'm afraid. The Chosen One will die."

"No," Ignis spat out unwillingly. He knew he was being baited, but his control was worn thin, stretched to the point of snapping. "I'll find a way to stop it."

Ardyn chuckled, as if he found Ignis' defiance amusing. "And how will you do that, darling boy? How will you help your precious Noct, when you can barely help yourself?"

The chancellor pressed in close and Ignis gasped as the man's presence seemed to reach out and envelop him. Nausea gripped him, so sudden and unyielding that Ignis gagged. Or at least he thought he did - the world had wrenched sideways, leaving him with the jarring sensation of being torn out of his own body. He was suffocating, the air in his lungs replaced by something heavy and cloying and utterly repulsive. It was poison, filling him up, crawling through his veins and ripping him apart, cell by cell and gods he couldn't breathe - 

"I know what you're doing, Ignis," Ardyn whispered in his ear. The quiet words sliced through his agony like a razor. "Just as I know it won't work. I tried it too, once upon a time, when I was still young and hopeful and so terribly naive. Just like you." 

Ignis was starting to fade. Bits and pieces of him were breaking off and floating away, and he didn't have the strength to stop it. "What - "

"Does he know that you're slowly killing yourself with his magic? No, but of course he doesn't. How _utterly_ delightful."

He was vaguely aware of his knees crashing against the floor, of his body slumping down into a helpless puddle of cold flesh and trembling bones. It felt like he was dying.

"All this effort to make yourself whole...a shame that it will all go to waste. Your loyalty won't save him, my sweet, foolish chamberlain. But it's certainly nice of you to try."

If the chancellor had anything else to say, Ignis wasn't aware of it as unconsciousness swallowed him up.

____________________

"Ignis? Iggy! For fuck's sake, wake up!"

Consciousness came back abruptly and the advisor found himself being roughly shaken by an irate Shield. Did he oversleep? No, he never overslept. Except he felt like an undercooked flan, mushy and unstable and soggy around the edges. Was he sick? 

"I'm awake," Ignis said groggily. "What happened?"

"Fuck if I know," Gladio said gruffly as he hauled Ignis to a sitting position. "One minute I was looking for that dude you wanted to talk to, and the next, we're under attack. Are you alright? You need a potion?"

"We're under attack?" All the other questions swirling around his mind were pushed aside for the most pertinent piece of information. And yes - when he forced himself to focus, Ignis could hear the sharp stutter of strafing gunfire and the deeper thunder of artillery, or perhaps tank guns. He was still too muddled to tell the difference. The sound of discharging weapons was overlaid with the screams of frightened passengers, and the pungent smell of heated metal and dark smoke permeated the air. "But how? Is the train not moving?"

"Not anymore," Gladio said grimly. "Either the engine's stalled or the people driving the damn thing are out."

"What about Noct? Prompto? Where are they?" Ignis struggled back to his feet with the Shield's help, swaying where he stood as the train shuddered from the blows raining down upon it. 

"They're on their way to deal with the Nifs. Noct said they'd hold them off until we got the train running again."

"Were they alright?"

"Sounded okay to me."

For a brief moment, Ignis considered giving into his desire to run to Noct's side before duty won out. There were civilians on board, and he'd be of more help in getting the train moving. He took a hold of Gladio's arm and followed the Shield through the the railcars towards the pilot engine. It was complete chaos - Ignis had the sensation that he'd been turned into a human pinball, bouncing helplessly off of frightened passengers that were running up and down the aisles, trying to escape the danger that seemed to come from everywhere. More than once, the two men were thrown into the seats as heavier hits found their mark, threatening to rock the train off the rails.

When they finally reached the front, they found the engineer out cold, but apparently still alive. "Can't tell what's wrong with her," Gladio said. "Don't see any injuries."

"Her head?"

"It's fine, no bruising, no blood, no lumps."

Ignis pursed his lips. "Then why - "

_The chancellor._

Ignis sucked in a sharp breath. The memory of being taunted and mocked rang through him, and dear gods how could he have forgotten? Ardyn was meddling with their journey to Gralea for reasons that weren't clear to Ignis, at least not yet. The man may have been an Imperial official, yet Ignis had a strong feeling that the chancellor wasn't particularly beholden to the Empire and was pursuing his own ends, whatever they might have been. Not for the first time, Ignis wondered who, or _what_ , Ardyn Izunia really was. 

"Hey." A large hand swatted him on the arm, jarring him out of his thoughts. "Will you fucking focus? We're in the middle of a godsdamn crisis here."

"I'm thinking," Ignis murmured, mentally shaking himself. "I will see if I can wake her. Can you check the engine room to determine if it's still in working order?"

"And how the hell am I supposed to do that? I don't know shit about train engines."

"Check for any major damage, anything obvious that might explain why we've stopped other than the fact that our driver is unconscious."

The heat of Gladio's body disappeared from his side as the Shield wordlessly left to examine the engine. Ignis shook the woman laying limp on the floor. "Ma'am? Wake up, please."

It took a few more precious moments before the engineer stirred, much to Ignis' relief. He didn't have the practical knowledge to drive a train either, and from the sound of battle outside, they couldn't afford to sit so vulnerably still for very much longer. The sooner they were moving, the sooner Noct and Prompto would be out of danger. 

"Oh gods, what happened? Who the hell are you?" 

"Ignis Scientia, at your service," Ignis introduced himself hurriedly. "Do you think you'd be able to get the train running again?"

"I...maybe? Why are we stopped?"

"I was hoping you could help us figure that out," Ignis said. "Shall we?"

Just as Ignis was helping the engineer to her feet, the sound of screaming metal rent the air as another violent tremor shook the train. The force of it knocked both of them against the side of the car and Ignis grimaced as he caught himself awkwardly against the wall, wrenching his wrist. "Are you alright?"

"Oh gods, oh gods," the engineer whimpered. "We're under attack, aren't we. What the fuck - I didn't sign up for this!"

"None of us did," Ignis said, "but we can get survive this. We simply need to get moving."

They staggered towards the engine room where Gladio was surveying the controls. "There's no smoking holes as far as I can see," the Shield informed them. "Can we get this thing running again?"

"Ma'am?" Ignis nudged the woman forward. 

"I - um, let me take a look," the engineer said. There was the sound of switches being flipped and levers creaking as they were pulled, and then Ignis could feel a subtle vibration under his feet as the train came back to life. "Yeah, I think she's alright. Let's get - "

Whatever else the engineer was about to say was lost in a spray of bullets that peppered the side of the engine car. Ignis threw himself over the driver but too late - several of the rounds pierced the metal carriage and found their target. The chamberlain could hear the woman under him gurgle wetly as she slumped against him. Ignis followed her to the ground, easing her fall as he pressed himself over to protect her from another round of gunfire.

"You'll be fine, you'll be alright," Ignis whispered over and over, yanking an elixir from the Armiger. He had no idea where the wound was or how bad, but it sounded bad. It felt bad. The engineer was twitching weakly beneath him, and he could practically taste her shock and horror. Ignis shoved the curative into her hand and squeezed fingers that were warm and sticky around the vial.

A few seconds later and the wheezing breaths deepened into sobs. "Oh shit," the woman puffed. "Shit, shit. That was -"

"I know," the chamberlain murmured. The sound of the fighting outside was much closer now, and somewhere behind them, Ignis could hear Gladio roaring insults and obscenities as he fought, thank the Six. "You're alright," he repeated. "Can you get up? We really must be going."

"I..oh gods," was the only reply the advisor received.

Ignis supposed he should be grateful that the engineer wasn't simply catatonic from the trauma of her experience. "And up we go," the chamberlain murmured as he dug into his own reserves and hauled them both upright. He fumblingly grabbed the woman by the arms and gave her a small shake. "I understand that must have been rather frightening, but I must insist that we move."

Perhaps it was a bit harsh, but patience and coddling were at the bottom of Ignis' priority list when hostiles were actively trying to kill them. He could always apologize later, so he shoved the revived woman forward and hoped that she was coherent enough to find her way to the controls and so they could finally be off.

Fortunately, the engineer was either the hardy sort or she was experienced enough to function competently on autopilot. "We're good to go," she told Ignis unsteadily. "Pulling away now."

The Magna Fortia groaned as it pulled away from the station, and Ignis could only hope that the rest of the cars were intact enough to stay on the tracks. And Noct - Six, were he and Prompto back on? 

Ignis fumbled for his phone and dropped it from suddenly nerveless fingers. The floor tilted beneath his feet as a wash of dizziness swept away his balance. The chamberlain crashed to his knees as his strength deserted him and found himself wilting against a wall of solid warmth.

"Iggy? Fuck. Ignis! How much of this blood is yours?" 

Gladio. And when had Gladio rejoined them? There were missing moments and Ignis wasn't quite sure where they went. Invasive hands were running up and down his torso and Ignis tried to twist away from their rough touch. "None of it," he mumbled. "It's not mine."

"Really?" Gladio sounded furious, for some reason. "Then why the fuck are there holes in your shirt?" Pressure against his ribs made Ignis buck against an onslaught of bright, piercing pain, caught off guard and unaware. He could only gasp when a stab in the back of his shoulder joined the chorus of agony shortly after.

"Stop," Ignis breathed. "Stop, please."

"Shut up," Gladio muttered tightly. "Shit, you're bleeding all over the place. Where the fuck are all the elixirs?" A vial was placed in Ignis' hand. "Potion," Gladio said gruffly. "It's all we got right now."

"No," Ignis refused. His wounds weren't that severe, he was certain of it. Gladio had already witnessed him sweating and sick, and Ignis couldn't bear the thought of being caught in such a vulnerable state again. "I don't - "

Too late. Gladio released the healing magic from the potion and it swept through Ignis like a firestorm. There was none of the comfort and relief Lucians associated with curatives - this time, there was nothing but needles prickling all over his skin, deep and inescapable. Ignis choked off a groan as he curled in on himself, trying to keep his stomach contents in place. He failed.

"Gladio? Specs? What's wrong with him?"

Noct's voice stood out from the tangle of noises around him and Ignis reached out for him. A slender hand gripped his own. "Noctis. Are you alright? Prompto?"

"We're totally fine," Noct said. The grip tightened. "Don't worry about us, okay?"

"What the fuck? It didn't work," Gladio said.

"What didn't work?" Prompto asked.

"The potion. It didn't...the wounds. They're still there." Worry seeped into the Shield's voice. "It didn't do anything."

"Then give him another one," Noct snapped.

Ignis didn't want it, but he apparently had no say in the matter. "No. No, no no..."

"Shh," Noct murmured. "This will help, I promise." 

Magic flooded through him again, and this time Ignis couldn't hold back his scream. Gods, he was being turned inside out as every fiber of his being fought against the curative spell, against Noct's powers. Ignis thought he might have thrown up again, but that small misery was lost in the tsunami of pain that was threatening to drown him. 

"I don't get it, what's happening?" Prompto sounded frantic. "Why isn't it helping? What's wrong?"

"Gods, I don't fucking know!" Noct shouted. "Gladio, what do we do?"

_Does he know that you're slowly killing yourself with his magic?_

"Shit, just... just put pressure on that, stop the bleeding!"

A black pit was waiting for him, its dark maw opening up to swallow him whole. Ignis began to spiral down towards it, with no energy to stop his descent.

_Your loyalty won't save him, my sweet, foolish chamberlain._

"Specs? Come on Specs, just hang on." Noct's voice came from far away. Ignis felt very alone, wherever he was. "You're gonna be okay, right?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost there! Just one more chapter to go...thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note the updated tags - smut ahead.

Tenebrae was lovely, he was told. Ignis hadn't been to the country of his birth in a very long time, but it was nice to be back, he supposed. Of course, it would have been much nicer had he returned under more pleasant circumstances.

He'd been to Fenestala Manor several times, the visits all clustered within the years after the marilith attack, but his memory of the grand old palace was a hazy one. He was told that the balconies in their rooms all overlooked the gardens, a vast blanket of royal blue sylleblossoms that stretched towards the horizon. It was odd - he'd heard that the gardens had been destroyed by the Empire, but if so, they clearly must have made a remarkable recovery. On days when the breeze blew in from the right direction, Ignis thought that he could smell the delicate, sweet scent of the flowers on the air. Today was one of those days.

The doors had been left open to freshen the room, and so Ignis followed the light perfume onto the balcony. "Mind if I join you?" 

"Nah." Wood scraped on stone, as if a chair was being dragged. "Go ahead."

Ignis gingerly lowered himself into the offered seat, taking care not to aggravate the meticulously stitched skin that still decorated his torso. He'd been told that his wounds were healing well. He pressed his fingers against his ribs, hoping to dull the intense, maddening prickling around the closed gash. 

"Stop scratching," Gladio ordered. 

"I'm not."

"Yeah you are. You're gonna rip up the skin around the stitches."

"It's itchy," Ignis countered. He'd forgotten how terribly irritating it was, the natural healing process.

"Don't whine. Fucking Astrals, you sound just like the princess."

Ignis frowned as he tucked his cane between his knees. Perhaps there had been the tiniest hint of petulance, but please. "I'm not whining." A royal advisor did not whine, ever. It was unbecoming.

"Uh huh."

Deciding that it was beneath him to continue arguing, Ignis gently relaxed against the cushioned back of the chair. His strength was rapidly returning now that his appetite had reappeared, but he still tired more quickly than normal. He tilted his head back so that the late morning sun could warm his face, content to simply sit in silence.

"How're you doing?"

"Much better," Ignis answered truthfully. "We should be able to leave in a couple of days."

"Is that what you think or what the doctors think?"

"Both. I know that Noct is anxious to move on." Ignis himself was in no hurry. He was once again counting the grains of sand as they dropped away and the minutes ticked by - he simply didn't have enough _time_. In his silent opinion, there was no need to rush Noctis to his fate.

"Oh, so now the brat wants to get his ass into gear," Gladio snorted. It was a half-hearted sneer at best. "So can you use potions and shit again? Or are we gonna have to stop every time you get scratched?"

Ignis' lips quirked into a tiny smile. "That would be rather inconvenient," he said. "The effects of the rejection are supposed to be temporary, although no one here can give me a definite answer, as the Oracle's magic is quite different from that of the Crystal. From my vague recollections, I believe what happened is related to the phenomenon of stasis, but in Noct's case, the Crystal cuts off his magic rather than allowing him to become overwhelmed."

"And stasis eventually goes away."

"Exactly. Noctis recovers, so I can only hope I will do the same." It was more than an idle hope - without access to the instant healing magic of curatives, he would be an enormous liability in battle.

"You hope?"

Ignis shrugged. "Magic poisoning is quite rare. I can only offer speculation."

The Shield heaved a big sigh. "Just fucking great."

"It's unsatisfying, I know, but I'll be fine."

"Gods, will you stop saying that? You're not _fine_ , Iggy. Nothing about this is _fine_."

"Gladio, please." Ignis was disappointed; things between them had been...perhaps not good, but they'd been calm. Settled. 

"No Ignis, don't you fucking 'please' me." Gladio exhaled loudly. "Did you - did you know I was the one that found you? On the ground and burnt to a fucking crisp? I thought you were dead, Iggy. I thought I was too late, and that you were fucking gone!"

Ignis had known. It hadn't been difficult figure out, since Prompto and Gladio were the only ones that would have been able to get through the Imperial blockades in the Altissia. "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? How can you - Shiva's godsdamn icy tits, Ignis! Do you even know what it was like? It was bad enough that Noct was down, and then you were there, and you were - shit." The Shield swallowed heavily. Ignis could hear the effort, could almost hear Gladio's throat working as he struggled with his words. He had never been the most expressive person. 

"Gladio - "

"No, shut up and let me finish. I know what our jobs are, Ignis. I made my peace with it a long time ago. I'm ready to do whatever it takes, but Six - I never thought I'd see you like that. I never want to see that again. Not you, Iggy. I can't fucking deal with it."

The Shield's voice trailed off into a raw whisper, and on some wild impulse, Ignis tentatively reached out. His fingers bumped into something bony and warm - Gladio's knee, most likely. It rested there for less than a second before his hand was clasped in a crushing grip. A kiss was pressed onto his knuckles with near bruising intensity. "I'm here," Ignis murmured. "I'm still here."

"For how long?" Gladio asked angrily. "Gods, I'm so sorry, Iggy. I should have been there."

Gladio had nothing to apologize for, but Ignis knew that he wouldn't appreciate hearing that at the moment. He sensed that the wall that had stood between them was beginning to crumble, and didn't want to do or say anything that would halt its disintegration. "You're here now," Ignis said. "That's enough."

"Come here." Gladio tugged on his hand and Ignis obliged, settling himself on Gladio's lap. It was a position that he disdained in the past - Ignis, despite the whispers that had circulated through the Citadel, was not a lapdog, thank you - but he allowed it now, surprised and unsure. A tiny wisp of hope unfurled in his chest and then lips were smashed against his own, claiming his mouth in a messy kiss that was more desperate than loving. Ignis was more than happy to reciprocate, and was certain that he was no less frantic. Gods, it had been so _long_.

"Up," Gladio mumbled against his lips. "Bed."

The Shield pulled Ignis along, guiding the blind chamberlain into the room and towards the bed as he ripped Ignis' shirt off, impatient and careless. He slowed when the white bandage on Ignis' ribs was revealed, gently caressing the edges of the gauze where it was taped down over the healing wound.

"It's alright," Ignis said softly. "I'm not going to break." _Not again, anyway_.

Gladio inhaled sharply. "Good. 'Cause I'm not gonna be gentle."

With a small groan, Ignis buried his face in the Shield's meaty shoulder as Gladio continued undressing him. He quickly helped Gladio out of his clothing, keen to feel skin on skin, before he was roughly pushed back onto the mattress. There was a small twinge in his shoulder blade where a bullet had cracked the bone, but it was soon lost in a haze of mindless desire. Ignis was already fully hard, his body responding to Gladio's touch with an almost embarrassing eagerness. He gasped into the other man's mouth and bucked up into the broad body covering of his own as a callused hand firmly wrapped around his cock.

"Missed this," Gladio rumbled. "Missed you."

They didn't bother with a lot of preparation - neither man had the patience for it. Sharp pain lanced through Ignis as the slicked head of Gladio's thick cock breached him, but the chamberlain forced himself to breathe through it, to relax and accept what he was being given. He wanted this. He _needed_ it. The Shield relentlessly pushed forward and didn't stop until he was fully sheathed inside Ignis' body.

"Gods, you're so fucking tight." Gladio pressed his face against the side of Ignis' neck, scraping his teeth against skin. His hair tickled Ignis' nose. "Okay?"

"Yes," Ignis sighed. "Yes." 

The sex was rough and fast. Gladio ruthlessly pounded Ignis as though he thought their lives depended on it, grunting with exertion each time he plowed into the chamberlain. Discomfort melted into electric pleasure and Ignis writhed with it, basking in the joy of having Gladio inside of him once again. The chamberlain wrapped his legs around his lover's waist, wordlessly encouraging the other man to thrust harder, to give everything he had because Ignis would take it, gratefully. Neither one of them was interested in tender murmurings or loving caresses - Ignis hoped there would be time for that later, once this feverish need had been fucked out. 

"Come for me, gorgeous," Gladio panted as he wrapped a fist around Ignis' erection. "I want to see you."

Ignis was already close to toppling over the edge, so when Gladio touched him he came with a choked cry, back arching and clawing at the other man's thighs as he erupted all over their sweat-soaked skin. Gladio quickly pulled out and flipped the pliant chamberlain into his belly. Ignis squeezed his eye shut as Gladio's cock slipped back inside of him, content to just be as the Shield used him to chase his own pleasure. It wasn't long before Gladio rocked forward against him one last time, spilling into Ignis' body with a deep groan.

Gladio collapsed onto the advisor, still buried inside, his weight heavy and warm. Puffs of air ruffled Ignis' hair and the sound of Gladio's harsh breathing filled his ear. His own heart was still pounding as he slowly came down from his incredible high. 

"Fuck, Iggy. That was..." Gladio mumbled.

Ignis smiled sleepily. "Indeed."

The Shield rolled off of Ignis, and the chamberlain grimaced as he felt Gladio slide out. The mattress dipped and rebounded as the other man got up from the bed, presumably to find something with which to clean up. Despite the cooling mess that was uncomfortably smeared over his belly and the back of his thighs, Ignis found himself sinking into a blissed out half-doze. He remained loose and boneless when Gladio returned and began to gently wipe him down.

"You alright?" There was a tinge of worry in the Shield's question that made Ignis smile again. _I've missed that too_. 

"Absolutely," Ignis replied. "Although I imagine I'll be a bit sore for a while."

Gladio snorted and climbed back into bed, pulling Ignis away from the soiled bedding and against his side. Ignis hummed happily when Gladio began to slowly stroke up and down his spine. He wished he could see the other man's expression - it had always been so beautifully relaxed in the afterglow. "Well, that ain't nothing new," Gladio declared with pride.

Ignis half-heartedly smacked his knuckles against Gladio's chest. "You brute," he said fondly.

"I warned you," the Shield retorted, sliding his fingers into Ignis' hair and pressing into his scalp.

"You did," Ignis agreed. "I'm certainly not complaining."

The chamberlain just woken a few hours ago, but felt that after their unexpected but totally welcome tryst, perhaps he could use a little nap. Sex inevitably made him drowsy, no matter what time of day. Just as he was on the verge of slipping away, Gladio spoke. "You think you'll get your sight back?"

Ignis sighed. "I don't know."

"Iggy, come on. Tell me."

The advisor pushed away from Gladio's embrace and lay on his back, covering his damaged eyes with his palm. He'd tried to fix himself but it had backfired rather spectacularly, and now he was left with no options. Short of turning back time, Ignis wasn't sure what he could do. "I don't know. I still harbor some hope, but..."

"Ignis." His name was said with such care that Ignis suddenly felt tears prickling under his eyelids. For some very bizarre reason, the ghostly fire that had burned out his vision and scarred him had left his tear ducts intact. 

"It's unlikely," Ignis whispered. "I'm afraid that I'm permanently blind." The enormity of the confession nearly crushed him.

Gladio scooped Ignis back into his arms and held the distressed chamberlain tightly against his chest. ignis stiffened when the other man began to sprinkle small kisses on his face. They were each landing on the ugly scars that littered his skin - on his lower lip, the bridge of his nose, his right eyebrow. When they moved to the massive knot of over his left eye, Ignis made a small noise of protest and tried to move away. The Shield resisted, keeping Ignis locked against his own body. 

"It doesn't matter," Gladio said firmly. "You're gonna find a way around it, because you're Ignis Scientia. I've never seen you come up against a problem you couldn't beat into submission."

"This is quite different - "

"No, it's not. Fucking Six, Iggy. You don't have to deal with this yourself. And yes, I know what I said before - " Ignis frowned " - and I was a giant stupid ass. I'm sorry, okay? I should have been helping you from the beginning instead of being an godsdamn idiot and leaving it all to Prompto." Gladio's voice was thick with emotion. 

"Prompto has been a wonderful help," Ignis interjected, mildly offended on his friend's behalf.

"Yeah, I know. Blondie's a good kid. A good man. Better than I am." Gladio sighed deeply. "But still, I should have been there. It just fucking hurt, seeing you like this. I hope you'll let me make it up to you, Iggy."

"Thank you, Gladio," Ignis said quietly. The two men lay together in silence for a while, wrapped in each other for comfort. "Although I must say, this is not a conversation I imagined having while nude."

The Shield laughed. It was a sound that Ignis hadn't heard in quite some time, and he was gratified to know that he was still capable of luring it out. "Get used to it, 'cause I'm not letting you put on clothes any time soon. We're gonna be having lots of naked conversations."

"Hmm. Well, if you insist, then I think I'd rather we spend our time doing something other than talking."

Ignis suddenly found himself pinned under Gladio's considerable weight. "I ain't gonna argue with that," he murmured, nipping along Ignis' collarbone.

The chamberlain smiled as Gladio began to work his way down Ignis' body, sighing as his lover licked and nibbled at the spots that were guaranteed to make Ignis squirm. The reality was that their problems were numerous and none were easily solved. Of course, the most urgent one of all was the issue of the prophecy, and it loomed large over Ignis' head, dark and glowering like particularly vicious iron giant. But for now, Ignis allowed himself to be distracted, thoroughly enjoying Gladio's attention. It would be a memory he could hold onto in the dark days that were sure to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooray, we've made it to the end, about two months after this was supposed to be due! This didn't end quite the way I thought it would, but I hope that it was okay nonetheless. I also do realize that I've sort of ignored the status effects of curatives like elixirs and ethers - we'll just call it creative license. Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> And here we stand, at the precipice of a downward spiral...
> 
> Hello! I usually don't post WIPs but as this is very shamefully late, I'm going to post what I've written and continue on. I have an outline planned, but tags and such will likely be updated as I go along. Thanks for reading!


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